Discovered Truths
by RRyanForever
Summary: 1st Season 'Family' Discovers What is Most Important. Complete.
1. Disappointments

***Disappointments---Present Day***  
  
"Come in." Even through the door, Tessa could hear the tension in his voice.  
  
The smile he plastered on his face didn't fool her for a second. "Oh. Hey, Tess."  
  
"You were expecting someone else?" She phrased it in the form of a question, despite already knowing the answer.  
  
But Richie had no interest in beating around the bush. "He's pretty mad, huh?" He couldn't quite keep his voice as casual as he had hoped.  
  
Suddenly, she wasn't sure if she should reassure him or be straightforward. "He's relieved, Richie. And disappointed."  
  
"Disappointed?" That was not the response he had expected.  
  
Straightforward, she decided. Honesty always worked best where Richie was concerned. "That you didn't tell him."  
  
"Oh." He hadn't even thought about that.  
  
"Why didn't you tell us you were hurt? We've been through this before, Richie. I thought you understood by now how important it is that you tell us these things." Duncan wasn't the only one upset. 


	2. First Impressions

***First Impressions---Present Day***  
  
As the door closed behind Tessa, leaving the anxious teen alone to wait for Duncan's dreaded visit, Richie found himself trying to anticipate what the ancient might be thinking. But as he lay on his bed, listlessly picking at the bandage, he realized he was more likely to discover the cure to arachnoiditis[1] than uncover the mysterious way MacLeod's mind worked. Experience had proved this to him on countless occasions.  
  
***Flashback---Richie's perspective***  
  
Leaning against the brick, determined to appear casual, Richie found himself more tense than usual. He was always cool, calm and ready for anything. Or, at the very least, he was an expert at convincing himself that he felt that way. So why now? Why wasn't he able to pull himself together and handle this job? This was a cakewalk; something he could do with his eyes closed.  
  
It wasn't until he had the lock picked and was opening the door that he realized why he had been so tense.  
  
"Shit."  
  
Not exactly eloquently phrased but it got his feelings across.  
  
As the door slammed back into place and he watched the lock re- secure, he pondered what was happening to him. The sword-wielding psychopath had caught him: for the second time. He was losing his touch.  
  
"Good evening, sir. Is there something I can assist you with?"  
  
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Mocking a guy who carried a large sword was not exactly brilliant. Why didn't he just save them both some time and lung into the man's blade right now?  
  
"Dinner." The innocent-sounding response was the last thing Richie expected to hear from the Scotsman.  
  
He couldn't quite cover his shock at the comeback. Especially after gasping out the remarkably intelligent response of, "Say what?"  
  
"It's time for dinner." The older man replied in a seemingly emotionless tone. Then, with a large smile, the Scotsman gently grasped Richie's arm and lead him away from the closed jewelry store.  
  
Richie, shocked into silence, allowed himself to be guided away from his objective and into the car of the total stranger whom he had watched chop a man's head off only days earlier. As the phantom who had haunted his dreams for days drove along silently, Richie mentally kicked himself for letting the man's unexpected response shock him into submission. He really needed to toughen up or he was going to get himself killed.  
  
----------------------- [1] A very rare but serious disease that affects the brain and spine, sometimes associated with meningitis. After all, Richie and Duncan are highly complex individuals. It would be an insult to both if Richie were to imply that uncovering Duncan's thought process was equivalent to any less daunting task( 


	3. Smiling Faces

***Smiling Faces---Present Day***  
  
As soon as she walked into the kitchen, Tessa could see that Duncan had worked himself into a ball of pent-up emotion in the few brief minutes she had spent with Richie. He was taking this hard. Harder than she had expected. Of course she had expected that her over-protective lover would be upset when she told him about Richie's injury, but she couldn't remember any other time in the twelve years they had been together that she had ever seen him this visibly shaken.  
  
When he finally noticed her concerned expression, he immediately stopped pacing, not wanting her to see how upset he truly was. He didn't realize that his vice-grip on Richie's bloodstained t-shirt was a dead giveaway. As he unsuccessful attempted to reassure her with a brief smile, he found himself reflecting on the lack of success that same forced smile had on him when Richie used it.  
  
***Flashback---Duncan's perspective***  
  
As he silently drove back towards the store, Duncan tried to contain his desire to gloat. Not only had he managed to make the teen silently dumbfounded, but he had also gotten the boy to come with him with surprising ease. Casual had definitely been the right approach. Discussing what his plans had been at that jewelry store could wait.  
  
While pulling into the alleyway, Duncan found himself regarding the child seated rigidly to his left and wondering how on earth he was going to handle him. After nearly four centuries, he certainly had his fair share of interacting with various individuals, but this was one situation where he just couldn't seem to find any previous experience to draw from.  
  
"Hungry?" He tried to keep the question as light as possible.  
  
But the response was just so tiresome. "I'm not going in there."  
  
The teenager was finally getting over his shock at being taken home to dinner by the man who kept stopping his criminal ventures. Duncan silently prayed that the shock hadn't completely worn off. He wanted to get the boy inside the house and seated in front of a hot meal before dealing with his defensive attitude. Finally deciding to take his chances and ignore the refusal to enter the shop, Duncan simply climbed out of the car and rounded it to open the passenger door. When the teenager remained seated, the Immortal casually leaned over, unbuckled the seatbelt and gently pulled the boy out by his upper arm to lead him inside.  
  
"Wash up. You're making the salad."  
  
When the teenager looked at him as if he had gone insane, Duncan added, "Soap's right here." He held out the bottle to the boy and began running the water for good measure. After a few long moments' hesitation, the overwhelmed youth slowly neared Duncan and cautiously took the bottle from him. Duncan pulled out some broccoli and began slicing it on the nearby countertop as the teenager washed.  
  
It was the boy's silent grimace that brought Duncan's attention back to the sink. That's when he noticed the tattered hands. Setting down his knife, he leaned over and gently grasped the frightened teen's right wrist.  
  
"What happened here?" He questioned, turning the palm down to examine the injuries.  
  
When Duncan pulled the hand back again following the boy's recoiling of it, the Immortal was struck by the teen's hallow laugh.  
  
"Forgot what I do already?"  
  
Like hell he had. The young man's penchant for crime was the reason they were there in the first place. Well, part of the reason at least.  
  
"This looks pretty nasty." Duncan said, ignoring the boy's facetious question.  
  
The child's response was nearly immediate. "It looks worse than it is."  
  
"It needs properly treated." Duncan shot back, unconvinced.  
  
Unfortunately, the boy wasn't exactly anxious to have anyone looking after any part of him, and especially not Duncan MacLeod. He shot what Duncan later would identify as his "I'm dying here but I'm never going to admit it" smile. "Really. It's cool." But Duncan wasn't buying for a minute. The forced smile only managed to steel his resolve to have the hand treated. 


	4. Protective Instincts

***Protective Instincts---Present Day***  
  
Tessa wasn't buying the smile for a minute. Especially not with the way Duncan continued to clutch Richie's ruined t-shirt. Rather than returning the smile, she simply tried to reassure him. "Duncan, he's going to be fine."  
  
"Of course he is." Duncan dismissed the comfort with a slight wave of the hand and resumed his pace across the floor.  
  
"I just don't understand why the hell he didn't say anything earlier. If he had only told me when it happened." Duncan trailed off the sentence that was really meant for Richie and not the woman whom he shared his life with.  
  
"What?" Tessa challenged with a smile, finally gaining Duncan's attention. "What would be different if he had told you as soon as it happened?"  
  
Duncan stared at her briefly before retorting with, "He wouldn't be laying in there right now."  
  
Tessa was somewhat thrown by the response. It simply wasn't true and they both knew it. It was only a couple hours before Tessa discovered Richie's injury. After all, how well can anyone hide three broken ribs and a six- inch gash across the chest? Even if Richie had come to them immediately, Duncan still would have him tucked up into bed. Tessa smiled to herself at that realization. She had seen almost immediately how fiercely protective her lover was of their young charge.  
  
***Flashback---Tessa's perspective***  
  
She was annoyed. And Duncan was going to know it. How dare he be stomping around in the kitchen, having what sounded to be a good time, while she was up to her ears in receipts? But as she stormed into the room, fully prepared to chew her lover out, she stopped dead in her tracks.  
  
She couldn't believe what she was seeing. The teenage thief who had made a late-night visit only days earlier was once again inside her home. There he stood, backed into a corner by Duncan.  
  
It didn't take Tessa long to recover from the surprise of what she saw. With venom in her voice she demanded, "What is going on in here?"  
  
The young criminal took his gaze off Duncan briefly but her lover never moved from his position immediately in front of the boy, posed with both hands on the wall surrounding the child in the corner.  
  
But despite Duncan's seeming lack of interest in her entrance, he was the one who responded to her. "Richie and I were just about to make a trip to the hospital. Care to join us?'  
  
His tone was casual to the common observer. But Tessa was not the common observer. After twelve years together, she knew that the tone he was using was anything but casual. "I'll get the car."  
  
Passing by the sink, she shut off the still-running water and grabbed her keys from the hook. As she made her way out the door, she got a glimpse at the boy's sliced, swollen hand and realized why they were making the trip. Now she just had to keep her curiosity in check until she got Duncan alone. She was more than a little interested to know what the youth was doing there again.  
  
Over her shoulder, she could hear her lover ordering the boy outside and, by the time she snapped her seatbelt into place, Duncan was leading the very hesitant child to her car. She smiled briefly when she saw how her lover was maneuvering the teen. While he had one hand on his shoulder, apparently to keep him in check, the other hand was lightly holding the boy's wrist. Apparently, Duncan felt the need to personally insure the safety of the hand until it was treated.  
  
When Duncan followed their guest into the backseat of the car, she was a bit thrown. That is, until she saw him still sheltering the injured appendage even in the safety of the vehicle. 


	5. Safety Nets

***Safety Nets---Present Day***  
  
As Richie glanced over at the bedside clock for the fifth time in three minutes, he sighed in exasperation at the slow-moving device. Well, at least he sighed in its direction, even if the true impatience was directed at ending the anticipation of talking to Duncan.  
  
When the Immortal met them at the hospital, he had barely said two words to him. He had simply examined the injuries for himself and talked with the doctor and Tessa about how to care for them. Somehow, Richie knew that it was not the appropriate time to initiate a dialogue.  
  
Remembering the tension at the hospital did little to ease Richie's mounting concern over the inevitable visit from Duncan. However, the recollection wasn't completely disconcerting. Richie found himself relaxing as he recalled the way Duncan hovered over him in the emergency room. And how careful he was as they headed home. In fact, he was downright doting as he tucked the boy into bed and ordered him to rest two hours earlier.  
  
But, even in the very beginning, Duncan had been extremely attentive and meticulous in his care of Richie.  
  
***Flashback---Richie's perspective***  
  
Maybe it was the size of the man. Or it could have been the sword Richie knew he was carrying. No, Richie finally admitted to himself. It wasn't fear that had motivated him to allow himself to be taken to the hospital. For some reason, one that went completely against everything he had learned in his seventeen years, he trusted this guy. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't killed him.yet. Or could it be that the guy was being really careful with his hand? Whatever it was about the man, it made Richie long to trust him.  
  
As they entered the hospital, he forced himself to shake that desire and focus on reality. This dude obviously had money. Maybe enough that this hospital wouldn't reject him for "inability to insure payment for services rendered" as the one he had gone to only hours earlier had done. He hated the idea of depending on this guy to pay for his treatment but it was the man's fault that he hadn't been able to get the money on his own, he reasoned. If he had only let Richie finish up at that jewelry store, he wouldn't need his help.  
  
And Richie had to admit, at least to himself, that he was desperately in need of this man's help. His attempts to remove the stinger himself had only resulted in some nasty gashes across his hand and he knew full well what could happen if the damn thing didn't come out[1].  
  
"Mr. MacLeod?" Richie allowed the man to pull him to his feet and over to the waiting nurse.  
  
As he was led down the hall behind the nurse, Richie found himself in awe of his surroundings. This certainly wasn't like any hospital he had been in. There were cushioned chairs everywhere, people smiled as they passed by and the medical staff didn't look like they were administering more drugs to themselves than to their patients.  
  
When the nurse opened the door to an examination room and motioned them inside, Richie was struck by the hominess of the place. There were walls, not curtains, around the area and pictures, framed pictures, were hanging on the walls. Everything was just so, well, clean.  
  
As he hoisted himself up to sit on the examination table, he realized that MacLeod was still hanging onto him. He hadn't even noticed that he had walked all the way down the hall with the man clinging to him.  
  
But what was truly amusing was the way MacLeod responded when the nurse approached him. He actually stepped in front of Richie.  
  
The old woman smiled at that and stopped momentarily. "It's alright, sir. I promise to be very gentle with him."  
  
"Oh. Of course." MacLeod, obviously embarrassed at his protective display, quickly moved aside and allowed the nurse to near Richie. But as soon as she touched him, Richie realized MacLeod had taken his other hand and was watching her like a hawk.  
  
Once again, he found himself desperately fighting his instinct to trust this man.  
  
----------------------- [1] Yes, most reactions to bee stings do occur within minutes. However, in the case of Type III reactions, symptoms don't become evident until 8-12 hours after the initial sting and then, if left untreated, can result in tissue damage. This is, obviously, not a common reaction but Richie is certainly not a common person. 


	6. Burdened Hearts

***Burdened Hearts---Present Day***  
  
"Duncan." Tessa's tone told him that, while amused, she was reaching the end of her patience about being brushed off.  
  
He once again managed to stand still and turned to face the Frenchwoman.  
  
"He's going to be fine." She repeated. "What is wrong with you?"  
  
"He could've been killed." He finally replied, not wanting to actually say it aloud. Richie could have been killed. Just the thought of it shook him to his very core. "And he couldn't count on me. I failed him"  
  
As she wrapped her arms around his waist, he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep the emotions inside any longer. There was just something about Tessa that made it impossible to keep his feelings to himself, no matter how hard he tried.  
  
"You couldn't have known." Tessa told him softly. "He's fine. You can start breathing again." Her intuition never ceased to amaze him. Her ability to recognize his lingering fear was unbelievable. And one of the reasons he loved her.  
  
She was right, of course. There was no way he could have anticipated that Richie was in danger.  
  
And according to all good reason, he could relax. There were no grounds for worrying about Richie's future. The injuries weren't permanent and he knew with every fiber in his being that the boy would be well cared for. He would see to that personally. The only consequence of Richie's failure to tell them about the attack was a few unnecessary hours of pain for the boy and those were now over. Only two rooms away, Richie was safely tucked into bed.  
  
But just because he knew in his head didn't mean that his heart would listen. As soon as he found out that Richie was injured, his heart stopped hearing all reason. Only when Richie was fully recovered would that particular appendage be able to process logic again.  
  
Tessa's voice interrupted his thoughts. "He's been there dozens of times, Duncan. It's always been perfectly safe. You have to stop feeling guilty about letting him go. You didn't cause this."  
  
"I know, Tess. That isn't it." He told her softly.  
  
"Then what is it?" She questioned as she pulled him even closer. "How can you blame yourself for this?"  
  
He shook his head impatiently at the question, moved her back to arm's length and looked her in the eye. "The injury isn't the issue."  
  
Before she could argue, he quickly amended the statement. "Yes, I'm upset he's hurt but I know that wasn't my doing. It's the secrecy that I can't handle."  
  
He stepped away from her now, finally voicing the failure that filled him with guilt. "I've tried so damn hard, Tessa. I've always protected him. Taken care of him. From day one all I've ever tried to do was show him he could depend on me. But even after everything, he still didn't come to me with this. Why can't I get him to trust me?"  
  
***Flashback---Duncan's perspective***  
  
"A bee sting?" Duncan skeptically repeated. "What about the scratches?"  
  
At this the doctor looked towards the boy, apparently preferring the young man explain for himself.  
  
"When I realized I was stung I sorta panicked." The teen mumbled softly.  
  
"Panicked?" Duncan repeated in a tone that made it quite clear that he was going to require more explanation.  
  
The child sighed and remained silent under Duncan's gaze for a few moments before he finally elaborated. "I knew the stinger had to come out so I pulled out my pocket knife." He shrugged before adding defensively. "I was upset, okay?"  
  
"So you sliced yourself up trying to get it out." It wasn't really a question. The picture had become perfectly clear to Duncan.  
  
"Yeah, and it hurt like hell, so if you don't mind." The boy looked at him expectantly.  
  
But Duncan was at a loss as to what he wasn't to mind. "What?" He finally asked.  
  
"I'd like to keep the other hand." The teen shot back.  
  
Now he was getting really frustrated. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Ease up, man." Richie gritted out.  
  
Duncan immediately loosened his grip on the boy. He had no idea how hard he had started squeezing the boy's good hand when Richie told him that the cuts were self-inflicted. The instinct to cling to him tighter when he realized how frightened the child had been was subconscious.  
  
Come to think of it, the desire to cling to him at all had been subconscious. Duncan began to wonder when he had grasped the boy's hand to begin with and why it was that he felt compelled to only loosen his hold on the child and not release it entirely.  
  
But these questions were forgotten as soon as the doctor approached them holding a large needle.  
  
"What is it?" Duncan questioned.  
  
"Kenalog." The doctor replied as he reached out for Richie's injured hand. "One shot of this and Richie will be as good as new."  
  
But Duncan wasn't convinced that easily. "Side effects?" He questioned, gently moving the hand away from the doctor before he could administer the injection.  
  
Annoyed, the doctor replied. "Well, he will bruise more easily for awhile. And injuries will take a bit longer to heal. That's a guarantee. But other than that, side effects are uncommon."  
  
"But include?" Duncan responded, still shielding the hand.  
  
"Very rarely there is nausea, diarrhea or vomiting. If anything, he'll be a bit tired and weak. Possibly dizzy. But it won't last long." The doctor tried to reassure.  
  
"Do you have any side effects?" He turned to the boy finally.  
  
But the response was too quick. "Nope."  
  
"Richie." He said in a tone that made the child tremor slightly.  
  
"Tired and weak." He replied quickly. "And sorta dizzy."  
  
"That's it?" Duncan probed.  
  
"I swear."  
  
The Immortal was still unconvinced. "I'm not sure this is a good idea."  
  
But the doctor was. "Mr. MacLeod, if Richie doesn't get this medication, he will end up with permanent tissue damage. And that's the best-case scenario. I'll give him the shot and you can take him home and tuck him into bed. A good night's sleep will be all he needs."  
  
Duncan simply nodded and released Richie's injured hand. As the doctor stuck the needle in the most swollen area, Duncan felt the boy's good hand begin to squeeze his fiercely. He moved his free hand to the back of the boy's neck and massaged it. It was minutes after the doctor had finished his work and left the nurse in his place before the child opened his eyes again.  
  
Duncan helped him off the table and smiled at the nurse as he led the teenager towards the doorway. "Let's get you back to the house."  
  
Richie stopped in the middle of the hallway. "I'm not going home with you."  
  
"Oh, yes, you are." Duncan told him flatly.  
  
But Richie was stubborn. "What the hell for?"  
  
"For the night, at the very least." Duncan retorted. "Look, you're hurt. We'll take you home, tuck you into bed and figure everything else out in the morning."  
  
"How do I know you won't chop my head off in my sleep?" The teen questioned, only half-joking.  
  
"If that was my intent, do you really think you'd still be standing here?"  
  
When he got no response, Duncan continued. "You're just going to have to learn to trust me." 


	7. Illogical Lovers

***Illogical Lovers---Present Day***  
  
Duncan was hurting. Tessa could see that. But what she couldn't see was how a man with experience so vast and a heart so large could be so naïve. How could he be so oblivious to Richie's feelings about him?  
  
"Duncan, you know that isn't true. Richie trusts you more than anyone."  
  
"Maybe so." Duncan allowed. "But obviously not enough to come to me when he's hurt."  
  
"You weren't even home when he got back." She said, amazed at finding herself using the same argument the teen had unsuccessfully tried on her only hours earlier.  
  
But the look Duncan leveled at her made it perfectly clear that the "you weren't home" argument wasn't going to fly anymore when she launched it than when Richie had. The boy knew the number at Gino's and both adults would have been out the door in seconds had he simply called them.  
  
She decided to get back to the true issue at hand: Duncan's guilt over Richie not trusting him. It was a topic she would have preferred to skirt. After all, if she was going to convince her lover that trust had nothing to do with Richie not letting them know he had been robbed, she was probably going to have to reveal what she believed was the true reason he had attempted to hide the assault from them and that was something she wasn't sure Duncan was ready to hear. Whenever the child was hurt, he always felt as though he was somehow to blame. She highly suspected that irrational sense of responsibility didn't only apply to Richie's physical injuries. It had been clear to her very early that, where Richie was concerned, Duncan just wasn't always rational.  
  
***Flashback---Tessa's perspective***  
  
When the pair she was awaiting finally came through the double doors, Tessa was on her feet immediately. She had been sitting in the waiting room for far too long for her taste. Especially considering how anxious she was to find out what she was really doing there in the first place.  
  
Two hours later, Tessa still had no more understanding of why the boy was with them than she had when she first discovering Duncan cornering the thief in her kitchen.  
  
She was a bit surprised by the way Duncan was still clinging to the teen. She had watched with interest peaked as Duncan had lead the boy down the hallway earlier. But that careful maneuvering was nothing compared to how tentative he was with the boy when they reemerged from the treatment area.  
  
Duncan was to the teen's right, awkwardly holding the injured right wrist. That she had watched him do earlier. But now he also had his left arm wrapped tightly around the boy's shoulders.  
  
Tessa looked up at him, eyebrows raised, as he finally approached her.  
  
"Would you mind bringing the car around? Richie's a bit dizzy."  
  
She was about to demand an explanation, having already surpassed her normal amount of restraint, when the teenager looked up at her. The few brief seconds that their eyes met changed her mind about confronting Duncan immediately. She could tell that was what the teen was expecting. The way he looked at her made it clear that he believed she would throw a tantrum right there and refuse to take Richie with them. And if there was one thing Tessa detested being, it was predictable. Instead, she smiled at the boy and walked out the door to retrieve the car. There was no way she was going to be so transparent that a teenage thief who'd just met her could predict her behavior.  
  
Fortunately, she didn't have to wait much longer to get Duncan alone. Not five minutes after they arrived at the shop, Duncan had Richie set up in the guestroom, sleeping soundly on one of her best sets of sheets.  
  
"Duncan." She pleaded as soon as he had shut the bedroom door.  
  
"It was a bee sting." His response was not exactly what she was looking for. "He wanted me to think he was injured stealing."  
  
"Duncan." She said more firmly this time. "What was he doing here to begin with?"  
  
"I brought him here." He dismissed the question with a wave of the hand. "Why would he lie about how he got hurt?"  
  
Tessa was getting very agitated now. "You brought him here? Why the hell did you bring him here? And to top it all off, you didn't even tell me you were going to see him." Extremely agitated.  
  
"For dinner." Duncan's thought process was definitely not following Tessa's. It was like they were having two separate conversations. "He could've died." Duncan frowned. "Why would he risk that?"  
  
"Mac!" She yelled it this time; finally drawing Duncan out of himself.  
  
Somewhat at least. "What?"  
  
"What were you thinking, bringing that thief here? And why didn't you tell me?" She was going to get answers to her two most pressing questions, at the very least.  
  
Duncan finally took the time to defend himself. "I wasn't planning to bring him, Tess. You know I would've told you if I had been. I just, um, ran into him. Inviting him seemed, well, appropriate."  
  
"Appropriate." She just couldn't help herself, this was one situation where yelling could not be avoided.  
  
"Shh. He's sleeping." Duncan's scold hardly cooled her temper but it did remind her of the vow she made to keep her opinion between Duncan and herself.  
  
She managed to lower her volume, even if the tone wasn't changed. "He broke into the store, he almost revealed your secret to the police and now he lied to you. What could possibly make you think bringing him here is appropriate?" She hissed.  
  
"He needs help, Tess." He put in quietly.  
  
It managed to calm her somewhat. Duncan's heart never ceased to amaze her. "Duncan, it isn't safe to bring him here. For anyone."  
  
"I'll make it work." Duncan resolved.  
  
In that second, it dawned on Tessa that Duncan was thinking well past the night. "Duncan, no."  
  
"Tessa."  
  
"Duncan." She shot back. This was not going to happen.  
  
"He's a child."  
  
"He's a teenager. A teenage criminal." She tried to reason with him, but she was losing her resolve.  
  
"This isn't just because he knows about you, is it?" She finally asked when he didn't respond. But his silence was having the exact opposite effect on her that it usually had. His quiet was somehow draining the anger from her. "You don't even know him, Duncan. Make me understand why you want to take this stranger into our lives."  
  
"He needs us, Tess." He fully faced her now.  
  
"Why him? Why now?"  
  
The totally atypical response he then leveled at her threw her completely.  
  
"Because." He said flatly.  
  
Inadequate. Illogical. The response of a child. But, as she was beginning to realize, there was something about this particular teenager that made her usually practical, logical partner completely irrational. 


	8. Guardian Pacers

***Guardian Pacers---Present Day***  
  
The pacing. That was what was going to drive him truly insane. Being so far down the hallway, he couldn't make out what was being said, but the squeak of the floorboards was definitive evidence that Duncan was pacing. That was definitely not a good sign. Pacing only meant one thing: Duncan was bottling up emotions and Duncan plus bottled emotions always equaled Richie in trouble. As he lay on the bed, desperately wishing the pacing would end, he couldn't help but pout a bit about being laid up to begin with.  
  
When he managed to convince Duncan to allow him to pick up the plaster on his own only a few hours earlier, he thought he had completely lucked out. He would have plenty of time to make it to the docks and back before Duncan and Tessa finished smoozing her new customers at Gino's and, since they had closed down the store, he was planning on spending a few hours with the living room stereo playing real music for a change. With Duncan and Tessa both out of the house, he could listen to his favorite band at a volume that would normally be classified as more than "appropriate." What do they say about the best-laid plans?  
  
Damn his desire to be quick. He was never quick about anything. Why had he chosen today to turn over a new leaf?  
  
If he hadn't taken the shortcut through his old neighborhood, he probably wouldn't have made it there and back before three; but he certainly would have been back well before Duncan and Tessa. And, more importantly, he would have returned unscathed. That one decision had cost him far too much, in his opinion. Now not only was he hurt and most likely in trouble, but he had upset Duncan, too.  
  
How did he always end up burdening the one person who was always protecting him, even when he was fighting that protection tooth and nail?  
  
***Flashback---Richie's perspective***  
  
Listening to the couple fight in the living room, Richie knew that it was time to make his getaway. Any minute now, Duncan would be tossing him out or, even worse, calling someone to come get him. Richie had no intention of sticking around long enough for the man to do either. When he heard the words "him" and "now" from the woman, he fired up the afterburners and hopped out of bed in the direction of the window.  
  
But it seemed that, as far as Richie was concerned, if you're going to do something wrong, you might as well do it loud.  
  
He was so focused on climbing out the window and running across the yard, he never even heard the couple coming. It wasn't until hours after Duncan had lifted him from the tangle of bed sheets he landed in and back into the safety of the bed that he realized that, other than in his dreams, he hadn't escaped. In reality, he had been discovered lying only inches from the edge of the bed.  
  
When he finally regained consciousness, he was surprised to see the Immortal was sitting vigilantly beside him.  
  
"What am I still doing here?" He questioned, startling the Immortal with his long-anticipated consciousness.  
  
"Where did you think you'd be?"  
  
Richie shrugged at that. "Juvie, a foster home, the street corner. Really anywhere but here."  
  
"I already told you, you're staying here." Duncan replied evenly.  
  
Despite his circumstances, Richie had to save some face. "I don't need your help."  
  
"Of course not." Duncan replied as he headed towards the door. Suddenly, he turned back around. "I'm coming right back, so don't bother trying to get up."  
  
"I'll get up when I damn well please." He was tired, sore and scared. So what if he was being rude and irrational?  
  
"Fine." Duncan replied, sitting back down.  
  
Richie looked at him, puzzled. "I thought you were leaving?"  
  
"Can't risk it, apparently."  
  
Now Richie was confused to top it off. "What?"  
  
"I leave, you might try to get up again and, whether you like it or not, you are staying right there until all side effects have worn off. Since that certainly isn't going to happen soon, I guess I can't go anywhere." Duncan explained.  
  
"I don't need you here."  
  
"Of course not." Duncan's even tone was infuriating. 


	9. Fearful Failures

***Fearful Failures---Present Day***  
  
What was wrong with her? 'You weren't home.' Tessa knew full well that he would have been there in seconds if Richie had just called him.  
  
"He should've called and you know it."  
  
She once again neared the agitated man and attempted to relax him by wrapping her arms around his waist. "Of course he should have."  
  
This response only elicited a sigh from Duncan. "If you know that and I know that, why doesn't he?"  
  
"He does." She replied flatly. "But with Richie, logic doesn't always rule. He let fear get the better of him."  
  
"What does he have to be afraid of?" Once again, Duncan pulled back from her.  
  
Tessa looked up at him, sadness in her eyes. "Failure."  
  
"He was attacked, Tessa. Robbed. How is that failing?" The very idea of it infuriated him.  
  
Then Tessa's response threw him. "You wouldn't have given up the money."  
  
"Probably not." He allowed, more out of shock at the idea of it than agreement that it was true. "But Richie isn't me."  
  
"Exactly." Tessa replied quietly.  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Richie worships you, Duncan. He wants to be like you; believes it's what you expect, too. He thinks he disappointed you." Tessa was truly amazed that her sensitive, protective lover couldn't see for himself what was so painfully obvious to her.  
  
"Disappointed me? Of course he disappointed me." Duncan responded in anger.  
  
Tessa was floored. She couldn't even piece together what she wanted to say. "What? Mac, how can you? What was he?"  
  
"Damn right he disappointed me. Richie should know by now what I expect from him."  
  
***Flashback---Duncan's perspective***  
  
"Honestly?" He questioned, still skeptical.  
  
"Damn, how many times do I have to say it? I'm fine, man." Richie replied irritably.  
  
Duncan sighed. Now that Richie was up he was attempting to return to his original plan of communicating with the boy but it was considerably harder. Nearly a full day had passed and a good deal of the shock surrounding the situation had worn off. He was going to have to deal with the entire breadth of Richie's attitude at once.  
  
"Watch your language."  
  
"Or what?"  
  
Duncan counted to ten. Then he tried again in French. Then Polish.  
  
It was all he could do to keep himself from going off on this boy. He needed to keep his cool if this was going to work.  
  
"Try me."  
  
He suppressed a smirked. Apparently, Richie's fear of him hadn't entirely worn off. It probably wouldn't help him get the boy to trust him but, for now, it was useful in keeping the teen under control. The arguing stopped immediately.  
  
"You're not at all dizzy?" He started his questioning again.  
  
And was happy when Richie's responses seemed much more sincere. "No."  
  
"Nauseous?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Tired?"  
  
"No."  
  
"How's the hand?"  
  
The pause lasted a second or so too long.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Richie." Duncan surprised himself at the warning note he so easily managed to incorporate into his tone.  
  
"All right, so it's still sore. But really it's a lot better." The boy relented much sooner than Duncan had expected.  
  
He also surprised the Immortal by allowing him to examine the hand, even if he did flinch it back slightly at first.  
  
"Where the shot was or the scrapes are?" Duncan asked, carefully running his thumb up and down the back of the injured appendage.  
  
"Where the stinger was actually, but it really is getting better." The teen replied in a tone that, to Duncan's relief, seemed neither deceptive nor confrontational.  
  
He decided to take the boy's word for it. "Alright, let's get some lunch then."  
  
As Richie began to gratefully climb out of the bed, Duncan stopped him though. "You're word that you'll tell me if it doesn't continue getting better."  
  
The boy looked as though he was about to protest for a moment but simply responded with, "Agreed."  
  
The uneasy truce lasted all the way through lunch, to Duncan's great surprise. And then through dinner. It was not until nighttime fell that the inevitable confrontation occurred.  
  
The Scotsman looked up from his magazine when Richie flipped off the television and rose from the couch.  
  
"Bored?"  
  
He was surprised to see how uncomfortable the boy looked. Only minutes earlier he had seemed relaxed, staring intently at the television.  
  
"It's getting late." Richie responded, not really acknowledging the question.  
  
Duncan decided to let the teen lead the conversation's direction. "I guess."  
  
"So." The tone was too hesitant and the pause too long. "Thanks."  
  
He smiled, relieved that awkwardness over expressing gratitude was all that was bothering Richie. "Your welcome."  
  
When the boy started to walk out of the room, he was a bit thrown. "Where're you headed?"  
  
"Home."  
  
Ahh. Duncan understood the full implication of the thanks.  
  
"Where's that?" He decided to keep things casual as long as possible.  
  
But the calm, even tone didn't really help. "What's it to you?"  
  
Duncan shrugged. "Maybe I want to know where to send your doctor's bill."  
  
"Oh." Richie blushed. "Look, I'll pay you back. I just need a couple of days."  
  
"Of course. I'm not worried." Duncan replied nonchalantly. "Why don't you just give me the address and I'll mail your parents the bill?"  
  
Richie turned bright red. "I'm sort of between addresses right now. Could I just stop by in a couple of days and pick it up?"  
  
"I'm afraid I'm going to need an address."  
  
Now the boy just looked downright frightened. "Or what?"  
  
"Or you'll just have to use this one."  
  
"Say what?" The teen certainly hadn't expected that as a consequence.  
  
But Duncan already knew he would be shocked. "If you don't have an address, I guess you're stuck with this one."  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" Richie was entirely on the defensive now.  
  
But Duncan had no intention of backing down. After watching Richie toss and turn in his sleep for hours, Tessa was even more resolute than he was. Richie was not leaving their home until a parent came to claim him or he turned 21. Since Duncan already knew the boy was an orphan, it didn't look like he was leaving anytime soon.  
  
"Didn't we already discuss your language?" He asked flatly.  
  
"Fine. What the heck are you talking about?" Richie retorted.  
  
"Unless you can convince me there is someone taking care of you, you're stuck with Tessa and I." Duncan replied. "Oh, and keep in mind that I've had four hundred years of practice deciphering lies."  
  
"Why?"  
  
The question momentarily confused Duncan. "Why what?"  
  
"Why would I stay here?" Richie replied.  
  
Duncan paused for a moment to think about that one. He considered trying to reason with him. Maybe he should explain the advantages. Or the dangers that awaited Richie on the streets. "You're a kid."  
  
"So?" Richie replied.  
  
"I'm an adult."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I said so."  
  
"Wonderful." Richie replied. "That is terrific logic."  
  
"Look, you'll be safe here." Duncan explained.  
  
But that probably wasn't the best argument to use on someone who had watched him chop a head off. "Ya think?"  
  
"I know." Duncan replied firmly. "Look, you can trust us. We want to help you."  
  
"What would I do here?" The question pleased and surprised Duncan. It showed that Richie was already considering the idea. He had thought it would take a lot longer to reach that point.  
  
"Sleep. Eat. Help out in the store if you want. Go to school. Anything really, within reason. We can figure it out as we go."  
  
"And what do you get out of it?" Richie questioned suspiciously.  
  
But Duncan had his answer well prepared for that particular question. "You."  
  
"Me? And what, exactly, are you planning to do once you have me?" The teen hadn't taken the response in the manner Duncan had meant it.  
  
He needed to correct that misunderstanding immediately. "Help you, Richie. Just help you. Nothing else." He said adamantly.  
  
But Richie apparently had lived through enough to be skeptical. "So what, exactly, would my 'job' be?"  
  
"Being a teenager." Duncan replied quickly. He had contemplated saying child, but thought better of it before the word was out of his mouth.  
  
Richie, unfortunately, wasn't entirely convinced his true motivations were pure yet. "And the expectations for that job would include?"  
  
Duncan had to think about that one for a minute. He quickly decided that they could get into rules later; Richie wasn't looking for details. Trust, honesty and respect would have to come with time. He was going to earn those. He knew he couldn't just demand them. He looked over at Richie. The teen was cocky. He took unnecessary risks with his health, his life and his head. Suddenly, he could only think of one thing he wanted the boy to do. "Stay alive." 


	10. Foolish Actions

***Foolish Actions---Present Day***  
  
"And what, exactly, is it that you expect of him?" Tessa was curious now. If Duncan thought Richie had failed him, maybe there was more to this than she had originally thought.  
  
Fortunately though, Duncan was quick to clear up her confusion. "I expect him to take care of himself, Tessa. He risked his life over money. And then, to top it off, he was going to just walk around hurt. Do you have any idea how dangerous what he did was?"  
  
Of course she did. Tessa knew all too well how foolish Richie's actions had been, but she was trying her hardest to keep her feelings out of this conversation. If she was going to help Duncan see what Richie needed from him, she was going to have to stay focused.  
  
"Of course I do." She was beginning to have a difficult time keeping herself from being offended. It took every ounce of patience she had to forgive this question as being said by a man in pain. "But Richie's still young. He doesn't think he can be hurt. When those men attacked him, the only thing he was thinking about was protecting our money."  
  
"How many times do we have to tell him not to risk his safety over money?" Duncan fumed.  
  
Tessa simply ignored the question. "The only thing he was thinking about was doing what he had promised and getting my supplies."  
  
"Tessa."  
  
"I know it's ridiculous, Duncan." She quickly interrupted him. "But you know as well as I do that was why he fought. And when he lost, he didn't want us to think he was weak and needed protecting."  
  
"He does need protecting." Duncan replied darkly, giving the boy's bloodstained t-shirt another squeeze. "Logic like that will get him killed."  
  
Tessa smiled. The Immortal had inadvertently provided the perfect segue to her point. "Then I guess it's a good thing he has us."  
  
"Damn right." Duncan smiled sincerely for the first time since he had found out about the injury. "And I'm going to make sure he knows it."  
  
Tessa looked down the hall in the direction of the closed bedroom door. "You're going to go see him now?"  
  
Duncan turned to her briefly. "I think it's high time he and I talked, don't you?"  
  
The only response she offered was a smile, but she knew that was all he needed.  
  
She watched Duncan walk resolutely towards the closed bedroom door.  
  
***Flashback---Tessa's perspective***  
  
As Duncan quietly slide out of the bed for the second time that night, Tessa couldn't help but smile to herself. Two weeks after Richie had moved in with them full time, Duncan continued to get up in the middle of the night to check on him. At first, she thought it was because he suspected Richie would sneak away. Now she knew better. He simply wanted to assure himself the boy was really there. Having a child with them was no longer just a dream.  
  
She watched Duncan walk resolutely towards the closed bedroom door. 


	11. Anticipated Meetings

***Anticipated Meetings---Present Day***  
  
He had changed his mind. He would now welcome the pacing. For what seemed like hours, but had more likely been a few minutes, there had been only silence. He couldn't even make out any portion of the muffled conversation any longer. He was sore. And bored. And he could no longer handle simply waiting for Duncan to come see him. He had to know what was going on in the world outside his bedroom.  
  
Call it claustrophobia. Call it fear. Call it stupidity.  
  
He eased himself out of the bed slowly and was pleasantly surprised that he managed to get himself in a semi-upright position without an excruciating amount of pain. And of course his luck would have it that only when he had straightened himself fully, and was desperately fighting to keep from screaming out, that Duncan walked into the room.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Duncan was not happy. He crossed the space between them at lightning speed and eased Richie gently back down.  
  
Now somewhat awkwardly positioned sideways on the bed, with his legs sprawled over the edge, Richie attempted to regain his ability to breath before gasping out. "Going for a stroll?"  
  
"I think you've strolled quite enough for one day, don't you?" Duncan replied darkly as he eased Richie's legs back onto the mattress and carefully repositioned the boy.  
  
Richie grimaced. Partly at the movement. Partly at Duncan's tone. "It's not like I planned on getting mugged."  
  
"I know you didn't." Duncan sighed as he pulled the blanket over his young charge. "But your tendency to roam all over creation with a serious injury isn't exactly comforting."  
  
"I wasn't going to leave the house." Richie defended the action Duncan was least concerned about. "I just wanted to see where you and Tessa where."  
  
"You should've just called for us and you know it." Duncan scolded as he gently sat down on the bed next to the boy. "And you know full well that isn't what I meant. What were you thinking, running around town with broken ribs?"  
  
"I couldn't just lie there." Richie knew his defense wouldn't cut it. But he had to try. "I had to get home somehow."  
  
"You should've called me, Richie. You and I both know there are stores all over that neighborhood that would've let you use the phone." Duncan replied as he leaned over to grab the water glass off the bedside table.  
  
The teen reached out to take the glass from Duncan as he responded, "You weren't home."  
  
"Don't even start with that." Duncan fumed as he shooed Richie's hands away and leaned down to lift the boy's head up. "Don't insult my intelligence by acting like I'm going to buy that pathetic argument."  
  
"Yes, sir." Richie mumbled poutily before gratefully gulping the water from the glass Duncan held.  
  
Even before he had finished easing Richie's head back onto the pillow, Duncan found himself asking the one question that had been plaguing him since Tessa had first called to tell him the child was hurt. "Why didn't you call me, Rich?"  
  
"You were busy." Richie shrugged. "I figured I could get home on my own."  
  
"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? What if you had internal damage? What if you had passed out somewhere and no one came along? What would have happened then? How could you be so foolish?" Duncan was beyond angry; he was terrified at the danger Richie had been in.  
  
And Richie was beyond scared. He was guilty. "I'm sorry, Mac."  
  
"Damn it, Richie." Duncan sighed at the pathetic tone the teen used. As he looked down at the injured boy he loved more than he ever thought was possible, he found his anger giving way to grief. "What do I have to do to get you to trust me?"  
  
"What?" Richie asked, genuinely shocked by the question. He had no idea what trust had to do with his injury.  
  
"You hide this from me, Rich. Why would you try to hide this from me? No matter what, you can always count on me. I thought you would know that by now. What do I have to do to earn your trust?" Duncan subconsciously adjusted the blankets around Richie as he voiced his disappointment that the teen didn't think he could depend on him.  
  
"God, Mac, that isn't true. I trust you with my life." The boy gasped out, horrified at the idea that Duncan thought he had somehow failed.  
  
But the ancient wasn't able to accept Richie's reassurance. "How am I supposed to believe that when you risk your life rather than call me?"  
  
"That had nothing to do with me not trusting you." Richie insisted as he struggled to sit up on his elbows and look the Immortal in the eye.  
  
Duncan immediately laid him back down again and took the boy's left hand in his own. "Then why Richie? For God's sake, just tell me why you would rather walk around in pain than call me."  
  
"It wasn't your problem." Richie finally admitted, pulling his hand out of Duncan's. "You shouldn't have to drop everything in your life just because I can't get across town without trouble."  
  
"You can't really believe that a meeting is more important than you are, can you?" Duncan asked as he grasped the boy's upper arm. He was horrified that the teen might actually believe he was more concerned about a client than him.  
  
Richie wouldn't even look at him anymore. "You shouldn't have to choose. I should be able to take care of myself. You trusted me to make one simple pickup and I totally screw it up. I'm sorry, Mac."  
  
"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Duncan got up at that and began pacing back and forth beside the bed. "Do you honestly think I expect you to risk your life over money? You should've given them whatever they wanted."  
  
"I was carrying over $1,000 dollars, Mac." Richie said quietly as he started picking at his bandage.  
  
Duncan stopped pacing and looked down at the boy again. "I don't care if you're carrying a million dollars, Richie! You always give them the money. I never want you to risk your life over money. There's not enough of it in this world to make up for losing you, Rich." With each word his tone shifted noticeably from angry to urgent.  
  
Richie was near tears now. "You wouldn't have given them the money."  
  
"You don't know that, Richie. It would have depended on the situation. I wouldn't risk anyone getting hurt over money. Even the men who were robbing me." Duncan explained. "And I sure as hell wouldn't have risked you. Do you have any idea how much it terrifies me to know that you would put yourself in that much danger? When Tessa told me what happened, I swear my heart stopped. Do you have any idea how terrifying the idea of losing you is?"  
  
"I just didn't want to disappoint you, Mac." He almost whispered it as he fought desperately to keep the tears welling up in his eyes from overflowing. What had he ever done to deserve having someone like this in his life? "I don't want you to think I'm so weak you can't count on me."  
  
"I've never thought you were weak, Rich." Duncan said as he moved Richie's hand away from the bandage. "Needing help doesn't mean your weak. It means your human."  
  
"You never need help." Richie mumbled.  
  
Duncan couldn't help but smile at the naivety of Richie's thinking. "Of course I do, Rich. Maybe it doesn't seem that way, but I do. I've just lived a lot longer than you have. I might not need help as often as you do but that doesn't mean I never need it."  
  
"Right." Richie said quietly, still looking down.  
  
Duncan firmly gripped his chin and forced the boy to look him in the eye. "You should never feel guilty about needing help, Rich. Especially from me."  
  
"Why especially from you?" He couldn't stop himself from asking.  
  
Duncan sighed in response and sat down gently on the edge of the bed. "When are you going to get it, Richie? You're my kid. Taking care of you just comes naturally to me."  
  
***Flashback---Duncan's perspective***  
  
Duncan eased the door open slowly, still concerned from having seen Richie sleeping uneasily earlier that night. As the room came into full view, the smell of sickness made him realize that his concern was not entirely unfounded. No longer quiet about entering, Duncan headed in the direction of the slightly ajar bathroom door.  
  
"Richie?" He called out as he pushed the door open. Immediately, he turned his full attention to the boy. Resting his head against the cool porcelain of the bathtub, a full shade whiter than when Duncan had last laid eyes on him, Richie sat in a ball on the floor. The teen barely acknowledged Duncan's entrance with a low grunt before expelling what little of his dinner still remained in his stomach.  
  
As Duncan proceeded to flush the evidence and run cool water over the washcloth, Richie forced his eyes open. "Hey, Mac."  
  
He said it quietly, still struggling to catch his breath. When the boy didn't resist the Immortal running the washcloth across his face, Duncan knew he must have really been feeling poorly. Concerned and anxious, the Immortal began his questioning. "Was it something I said?"  
  
"Funny." Richie closed his eyes again and sagged lower against the tub.  
  
This hardly eased Duncan's fears. As he reached out and felt the back of the boy's neck, he was even more disturbed. Heat was radiating from him. "Where does it hurt?"  
  
"Everywhere." The mumbled response brought a slight smile to Duncan's lips. There had been an occasion or two where he had given that same, vague response to his mother in times long since past.  
  
"Could you be more specific?"  
  
Richie opened his eyes slightly to give the Immortal a pathetic look. "No."  
  
"It's going to be okay. You'll be as good as new before you know it." As Duncan ran his hand up and down Richie's back, hoping to be of some comfort, he found himself pondering the irony of the situation. For the past two weeks he had been impatiently awaiting the time when Richie would let down his tough exterior around him. Now that he was, the Immortal found himself fervently hoping the boy would put it back up. At least that way he would know Richie was all right.  
  
"Okay." Richie's feeble response was not what he had been hoping for.  
  
But at least Richie wasn't being pessimistic. "How about we get you back to bed, hum?"  
  
"I'm okay here." The boy was beginning to form sentences again, Duncan rationalized.  
  
With a few swift moves, Duncan had the teen back in the bedroom and was adjusting the bedding so that the sheets were not twisted around his feet. "More comfortable?"  
  
"Thanks." Richie nodded his reply.  
  
Duncan walked out at that and realized that his reentrance a few moments later startled Richie. Apparently, the boy thought he was just going to be left to suffer in solitude for the rest of the night. Trying to stay positive, he used what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "Open up."  
  
"Huh?" Richie looked up at him, obviously confused.  
  
But Duncan just smiled as he perched himself on the edge of the bed and held the thermometer he had retrieved from Tessa's medicine cabinet out in front of the boy. As Richie looked bewilderedly at him and reached his hand out to take the device, Duncan withdrew it slightly. He repeated his request again. "Open up."  
  
As Richie lay on the bed, silenced by the thermometer, Duncan could feel the boy's inquisitive eyes on his back as he filled a bowl with water and, retrieving a washcloth, glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol, returned to Richie's side. A few minutes after settling his cargo on the bedside stand, the Immortal decided it was time to check the boy's temperature.  
  
Removing the thermometer and moving towards the bathroom for the bright light, Duncan noticed Richie's drooping eyes. As he stood in the doorway, examining the device, he realized that Richie would be asleep within a few minutes if he just kept quiet. The fever was low and Richie hopefully only had a short-term virus. He would probably sleep through the rest of the night and wake up ready for anything. But as he secured the blankets around his patient and began cleaning up the area, the ancient couldn't shake a touch of lingering concern.  
  
Sitting down in the desk chair, watching the boy's gentle breathing, Duncan realized that it would be perfectly fine if he left. As he shifted himself to a more comfortable position and closed his eyes, he knew it was time for him to head back to his own room.  
  
"Mac?"  
  
Duncan blinked and sat up, rubbing his stiff back as he looked over at the bed.  
  
Squinting from the blinding sun, Richie looked at him with a mixture of confusion and hesitant pleasure on his face.  
  
"How're you feeling?" The Immortal questioned as he moved over to sit on the edge of the bed and reached out to feel the teen's forehead.  
  
Richie looked up at him, not flinching away in the least from the hand. "Better. Have you been here all night?"  
  
"Uh huh." Duncan replied nonplussed. He quickly recouped. "Define better."  
  
"I'm kinda worn out, but I don't feel sick." Richie explained. "You really stayed with me all night?" The child was apparently more interested in discussing Duncan's sleeping arrangements than his own health.  
  
Duncan relented to the change in topic. "Yep."  
  
"You stayed with me because I was sick?" The boy wanted to be clear.  
  
The Immortal smiled at the hint of joy he detected in the question. "Of course."  
  
"I wasn't that sick. Why would you stay?" Richie continued questioning.  
  
The ancient smiled at him broadly. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time." Getting up off the bed and heading towards the door, Duncan paused briefly. "Brush your teeth before you come out." 


	12. Mutual Understandings

***Mutual Understandings---Present Day***  
  
The tears Richie had been desperately attempting to hold back were flowing steadily now. Terrified he had misunderstood the Immortal, he responded in barely a whisper. "Your kid?"  
  
The smile that crossed the Immortal's lips was the first genuine one Richie had seen from him that day. "Yeah, my kid." The Immortal replied in an almost joking tone. But that tone quickly shifted to serious as the man continued. "Do you really think I feed you, cloth you and let you live in my house because you charm me into it? I wasn't exactly born yesterday, Rich.  
  
"No, I know you're not a pushover." Richie's voice was still shaky.  
  
But Duncan's continued to get deeper with each passing second. "Of course I am."  
  
"Huh?" Richie blinked up at him in confusion.  
  
This brought yet another smile to Duncan's lips. "Where you're concerned, I'm as vulnerable as a turkey in November." Duncan got up then, and went to retrieve the box of Kleenex off of Richie's television. Sitting back down on the bed, he edged as close to the boy as he dared without risking further injury and settled one hand on the other side of him before continuing.  
  
"Rich, I've lived the lifetimes of ten men. You can't even begin to comprehend how many people I've come to care about and then lost in that time. I always prided myself for being strong." Duncan paused as he looked down at the injured teen.  
  
Which caused the boy to feel the need to interject. "You're the strongest guy I've ever met, Mac."  
  
"Thanks, Rich." Duncan smiled at the boy's hero-worship of him. "But that's not exactly what I meant. After all the people I've lost and all the things I've seen, I thought I could handle my emotions well. But where you're concerned, that just isn't the case."  
  
"Sorry." The teen looked down and began picking at his bandage again.  
  
Duncan frowned fiercely, realizing how Richie had misinterpreted his statement. Grasping the boy's fidgety hand and pulling it away from the bandage, Duncan clarified his meaning. "I didn't mean you upset me, Rich. At least not in the way you're thinking. Yes, I get upset when you put yourself in danger or when you don't come to me. But not because I'm mad at you or don't want you around. I just want you to be safe and to know that you can count on me."  
  
"Okay." Richie said quietly, as he began to pull his hand out of Duncan's and turned away from him in a futile attempt to keep the man from realizing he had started crying again.  
  
"Okay, huh?" Duncan repeated, keeping his grip on the retreating hand. "Just like that?" He let out a low chuckle.  
  
"What's so funny?" Richie asked, turning back to face him once more.  
  
Duncan patted his arm. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. It's just nice to hear you say things like that. I like it when you act your age."  
  
"Gee, thanks." The teen replied sarcastically.  
  
The ancient was quick to try and smooth over the ruffled feathers. "There's nothing wrong with being a teenager, Richie. You work so hard at proving how tough and independent you are all the time, it's just nice to see you act like a kid sometimes. Especially when you don't nearly get yourself killed doing it."  
  
"And I'm the one who always get accused of being overly dramatic." Richie rolled his eyes. "Almost killed."  
  
"Yeah, almost killed. You seem to think you're invincible." Duncan replied, exasperated.  
  
But Richie was still on the defensive and not hearing him. "Don't all kids think that? I thought you liked it when I acted my age."  
  
"All right, I'll buy that argument." Duncan relented; deciding a change of tactics was in order.  
  
Luckily, it worked. Momentarily stunned, it took Richie longer than the teen would have liked to regain his composure. "You will?" He was very leery of where Duncan was leading the conversation.  
  
And he had the right to be. The boy had played right into the man's hand perfectly. "If you want to openly admit that you're an impulsive kid who isn't responsible enough to look out for your own welfare, who am I to contradict you? Personally, I wouldn't have put it so bluntly, but I guess when you get right down to it, you're right."  
  
"That isn't what I said." Richie stared at him defiantly.  
  
"You agree you're a teenager?" Duncan questioned.  
  
Resulting in a stupefied look from the teen. "Mac, you know how old I am."  
  
"So you admit to being a teenager?" The Immortal persisted.  
  
"Well, yeah."  
  
"Good." The ancient provided a huge smile at that. "And you didn't worry about the danger you were putting yourself in by resisting and then by not calling?"  
  
"I just wanted to get home." Richie admitted quietly.  
  
"Then we agree. You're a kid who isn't responsible enough to look out for his own welfare." Duncan once again concluded for the boy. He knew it sounded harsh. He also knew it was accurate. It was well past time for him to let Richie knew where he stood.  
  
"This is one argument I'm just not going to win, isn't it?" Richie sighed, preparing to accept defeat.  
  
The Immortal indulged in squeezing the hand he still held before responding. "What do you think?"  
  
"I think I'm just going to throw myself on the mercy of the court." The teen looked away.  
  
This response thoroughly confused Duncan. "What?"  
  
"That's what you want, isn't it? For me to admit I screwed up and beg your forgiveness? Fine, I screwed up. I'm sorry." He began fidgeting with the blanket.  
  
"How many times do I have to say it, Rich? I just want to know you're safe. How many times do I have to tell you that I was worried about you and hurt that you didn't trust me?" Duncan made sure to slow down and clearly get his point across. "I'm not mad at you, Richie. I don't want an apology, I just want a little reassurance that you won't continue to put yourself at risk like this and that you'll come to me, no matter what the circumstances, when you need help."  
  
"I'd say okay, but you'd just laugh." Richie replied quietly, sniffing slightly.  
  
But his reply still brought a smile to Duncan's lips. At least the man was more successful at suppressing a chuckle, though. "I didn't mean to laugh at you, Rich. But when you tell me that you'll stop acting on instinct just because I ask you to, I can't help but feel you're being a bit naïve."  
  
"So, basically, you're telling me that you want assured that I'll 'shape up' but there's no way you're going to believe me when I tell you that I will?" Now the teen was not only depressed, he was down right confused.  
  
As Richie stared up at him, Duncan realized that was exactly what he was saying. He did want the teen to promise that he would take care of himself and start using his head. But on the other hand, he didn't trust him to do either. As he looked down at the red-eyed teen, gazing up at him innocently, he realized what it was he really wanted.  
  
"I'm not exactly being fair, am I?" The Immortal questioned.  
  
The teen smiled slightly at that. "You can say that again."  
  
"Don't push your luck." The Scotsman's grin widened as he watched the cocky look that had just begun to form quickly slip off Richie's face.  
  
The boy replied quickly, anxious to smooth over any newly created ruffles in Duncan's feathers. He had no desire to upset the man anymore than he already knew he had. "I'm just trying to keep you from worrying, Mac." As the ancient looked down at skeptically, Richie hastily continued. "After all, wouldn't it freak you out more if I let a comment like that one slide?"  
  
"I suppose so." Duncan gently cuffed the side of his head, then quickly changed his tone once again back to serious. They still needed to clarify a few things and he wanted to do it immediately. "We ought to get some things cleared up, don't you think?"  
  
"Like what?" Blinking, Richie couldn't help but feel the knot in the pit of his stomach tighten once more. The relaxation he had begun to feel when Duncan had admitted he wasn't being fair disappeared immediately.  
  
"Like what we expect from each other. Obviously, we aren't exactly seeing eye to eye on how this relationship is supposed to work." The Immortal explained.  
  
Richie's heart dropped into his stomach. He tried to keep cool. Duncan wouldn't kick him out. That wasn't where this was headed. He had called him his kid. He kept saying he wasn't mad. Those weren't the things someone said before throwing you out. He'd gotten that speech before and those never factored in. But then again, MacLeod was like no one he had ever met before. He tried to shake it off. Mac wasn't kicking him out. Or was he?  
  
"Relationship?" He could barely get the word out, let alone in the casual tone he had hoped for.  
  
Duncan wasn't fooled for a second. Richie was suddenly terrified. As the Immortal replayed the last few topics of their conversation, it dawned on him what Richie had misunderstood. Now he just had to figure out a way to ease the boy's anxiety without directly stating that he wasn't kicking him out. Duncan had decided long ago that to acknowledge Richie's fear of being tossed out would only confirm that Duncan considered it a viable option and might one day do so. He absolutely refused to validate that fear.  
  
"We've established that my expectations of you are contradictory." Duncan began.  
  
"Yeah." Richie agreed warily.  
  
"And that you're terrified of letting me down." Duncan continued  
  
Richie frowned at that. "When did we establish that?"  
  
"I think it was around the time you told me you didn't want me think I couldn't count on you." Duncan countered, smiling slightly.  
  
The teen was now more concerned than ever about where this was leading. "All right. So?"  
  
"So? So do really think my having impossible expectations of you and you being afraid of letting me down is healthy?" Duncan was amazed at his own patience in the conversation. Usually he would be completely frustrated at how slowly he was getting his point across.  
  
Richie was a smart kid. He caught on to things quickly. But somehow, when it came to relationships, he just seemed unable to process where he stood. He stared suspiciously at Duncan. "So where do we go from here?"  
  
"Back to the basics." The Immortal replied flatly.  
  
Once again, he threw Richie for a loop. "The basics?"  
  
"Yeah, the basics. First things first, let's get my expectations of you straight. You need help, I want to know it. Immediately." Duncan explained.  
  
Richie nodded solemnly at him. "Understood."  
  
"Just so we're perfectly clear, that means all cases that require a decision being made about your welfare." Duncan continued.  
  
But Richie's puzzled look stopped the Immortal momentarily. "Care to repeat that? Preferably in English."  
  
"Sorry." Duncan smiled. He clearly had gotten ahead of himself. "You get hurt, I want to know. You feel sick, I want to know. You get lost, you call me. If you want to keep it real simple, you need to start equating discomfort with calling on me."  
  
"Mac equals pain. Got it." Richie smiled broadly at him once more.  
  
And, to his amazement, he received a wide grin in return. "Cute." He gave the teen a gentle slap to the side of the head. "Pretty close, though. How about pain equals Mac, hum? Think you can remember that?"  
  
"I think I can manage." The boy was more solemn in his reply this time. He had enough intuition to realize that the Immortal needed his reassurance that he was being heard.  
  
"Good." Duncan replied as he began to get up off the bed.  
  
But Richie's questioning stopped him. "And?"  
  
"And what?" The Immortal replied.  
  
The teen wasn't buying his fiend innocence for a second. He knew full well that Duncan wasn't going to be satisfied with that reassurance. After all, he hadn't accepted it on the two earlier occasions Richie had promised it. Something had changed and the teen was determined to figure out what it was.  
  
"First you say my assurance that I'll count on you isn't enough, then you say we need to change how we relate and now you are willing to just walk out when I promise to let you know when something's wrong. That doesn't add up, Mac. What's going on with you?" Richie stared defiantly at him.  
  
Which made Duncan reevaluate his decision. If Richie wanted to know what had changed, maybe he should tell him. After all, part of his resolution was to be more open with the boy. "I was expecting you to act like an adult and take care of yourself, but then I was mad when you didn't come running to me for help. I realize now how unrealistic that is. I won't expect you to make perfect decisions anymore, all right? All I want you to do is remember to come to me. If you just promise to do that, I'll show you that you can depend on me. Always. No matter what. Regardless of the situation."  
  
"I get it, Mac." Richie interrupted.  
  
But his impute didn't divert the ancient's attention in the slightest. "You just remember to come to me and I'll take care of the rest."  
  
"The rest? What rest?" Richie was beginning to suspect that the Scotsman's change in attitude had less to do with him than it did with some covert plan the Immortal had cooked up in the middle of the conversation.  
  
And those suspicions were not unfounded. "I told you already, Rich. I've got to stop holding you to impossible expectations. From now on, I just want you to trust me to take care of you."  
  
"Take care of me?" This was not going in a direction that Richie was comfortable with at all.  
  
But Duncan's mind was made up. "Yeah, take care of you. I can't just tell you that you're my kid and expect you to accept that and trust me plus make all your own decisions. From here on out, I'm going to act like a parent."  
  
"Whoa, hold on a just a minute there, Big Guy. Let's back up the bus." Richie replied.  
  
Causing the Immortal to smile. Richie was used to independence. It was going to be a hard adjustment. But the Scotsman knew it would be well worth the effort. "The day you moved in, I told you that you were stuck with Tess and I to take care of you. I got sidetracked trying to take it slow and not push you away. I was trying so hard to earn your respect and be your friend that I lost sight of what you needed from me."  
  
"Oh, yeah? And now you've got it all figured out, huh? Care to enlighten me?" The teen retorted.  
  
Duncan's reply was simple. "Attention."  
  
"Attention?" Richie repeated. "Like we don't spend almost every day and night together?"  
  
"Parental attention." The ancient clarified.  
  
Richie flinched in realization. "So you planning to monitor what I eat, nag at me about when I sleep, that sort of thing?"  
  
"You got it, kid. Somebody's gotta take care of you and it isn't fair for me to expect you to do it yourself. That means you're stuck with me." Duncan replied.  
  
The teen wasn't quite finished questioning the man, though. "I don't suppose I get any say in this?"  
  
"What do you think?" Duncan redirected the question, raising his eyebrows.  
  
Richie sighed to hide the smile that was involuntarily surfacing. "I didn't think so."  
  
"I'm glad we understand one another." Duncan stood up at that and tightly secured the blankets covering the teen. "Now why don't you get some sleep?"  
  
"Sleep? Mac, I just woke up." Richie immediately began arguing.  
  
But Duncan wasn't going to back down. He had made a promise to parent this child, even when Richie didn't like it. "And it's getting late and you've had a long day. Go to sleep, Rich."  
  
"Can't I just lay here quietly and watch TV? I'll be real calm." Richie sped up his argument as Duncan looked down at him, unconvinced. "Come on, please? Just for an hour or so? It'll help me fall asleep."  
  
"Half an hour." The Immortal relented. "And I'm going to stick around to make sure you stay still. Half an hour and it goes off." Duncan warned.  
  
"Of course." Richie replied with a smile.  
  
Forty-five minutes later Duncan looked over at the boy sleeping soundly against his shoulder despite the gentle hum of the television. He couldn't help but smile. They hardly made a perfect father/son team. For one, he definitely needed to do some serious work at laying down the law. But as he gently squeezed the injured teen next to him, he reveled in that day's progress. 


End file.
